Blocks
by Rachel McN
Summary: AKA: The oversized, invisible rabbit traps that infuriate Merlin; placed by a man one cat short of a litter. Ask Arthur; Merlin didn't understand the kitten reference either.
1. Gwaine

**A/N: I don't own Merlin. Or Gwaine. But the rabbit(sorcerer) traps are mine...all mine.**

* * *

Merlin glared at the stone wall, determined to blame it for all his troubles. The wall deserved it. Stupid, smug, _chosen_ wall. Of all the corridors in the castle they had to place one of the blasted Blocks in his shortcut back to the physician's chambers. He thought he had this corridor all to himself too, hardly ever saw anyone wandering up and down it. He supposed that was the point; that they assumed all the sneaky sorcerers they planned to catch would lurk in the quiet out-of-the-way corridors. He thought of Morgause striding regally through the main section of the castle, crimson cloak billowing, and snorted in amusement. As though any hidden sorcerers were stupid enough to get trapped by placing invisible walls in quiet corridors. He looked up, realized he'd just insulted himself and wondered if he could melt the stonework through his glare alone. He could just blast the section of the stupid wall holding the enchantment, but Arthur might not be too happy about that. And there was always the chance that there were some guards placed nearby the Blocked corridor. They may be blind and as thick as Gauis' porridge but by the devil, they could hear. He'd kicked a stone down one of the back staircases once and a guard two floors up had come racing in, spear at the ready and nearly skewering him. They seemed convinced that any rolling stone, tipped barrel and dropped coin was a sign of sorcery. Then again, they never seemed to notice the evil smirks and caped harbingers of doom. So maybe he'd get away with blasting part of a wall to smithereens.

Merlin groaned, thumping his head back against the wall he was leaning on. Why Arthur had agreed to the eccentric hunter's demands, he would never know. Sure, he _said_ it was to help the kingdom remain free from sorcery. He definitely seemed to believe the 'evil curse' of magic would never dare touch _him_. Oh no; no, he simply had a knack for raising what amounted to invisible over-sized _rabbit traps_ in perfectly working corridors. Arthur told Merlin that he thought the hunter was, in his own words, "one cat short of a litter". Merlin didn't have a clue what _that_ meant, until Arthur explained it meant the man had a bag full of kittens for a brain and to stop being an idiot and fetch his dinner. In the interest of "not letting the kittens run wild when the bag breaks", Arthur had allowed the man to offer his 'protection' for the castle corridors given he listened to the knight's advice for where best to place the 'defences'. Merlin thought the metaphor was on its last legs when Arthur referred to sending the man to Gaius so he could "collar the kittens before someone decided to put them out of their misery of being locked in a sack". Arthur disagreed and successfully won the argument by slamming his helmet onto Merlin's head.

Stretching to work the stiffness out of his legs, Merlin wondered if there was any sort of time-limit for the demon walls. If not, he may have to resort to explosions after all. That would be fun to explain to Arthur. "The castle really needed an extension; it's not as though we have _enough_ empty rooms for all the servants to clean, I was just encouraging you to start work on the building. How did it happen? I had Gwaine burp and held a candle in front of him. All that alcohol on the breath you know, just, BANG!"

Seemingly summoned by the very thought of his name, Gwaine appeared, strutting down the corridor in all his knightly glory. Merlin considered jumping to his feet as if to continue his journey. Then he realised he wouldn't be able to pass either way down the corridor now he'd entered the infernal Block (_oversized rabbit trap_) and that it would only be a lot of effort for nothing. So he just looked up at Gwaine as the knight came to stand beside him, offering a cheery "Hello!"

"What you still doing here, mate? I would have thought you'd finished ages ago." Gwaine grinned, tilting to let his shoulder rest against the _stupid _wall.

Merlin forced a grimace onto his face, not hard to achieve considering he'd been sitting in the same _devil_ corridor so long his backside had gone numb. "Arthur wanted me to finish cleaning his replacement armour, but he had to find where I'd hidden it first. I'm camping out here so he can't get me to work the whole night when he realizes it's under his bed. Spent at least half-an-hour looking before I slipped out."

Gwaine guffawed, clapping his friend heartedly on the shoulder. A determined gleam grew in his eye, and Merlin groaned when he realised he'd given the knight an opening.

"There are much better ways to spend a night my friend, than camping in a cold hallway."

"Gwaine, I'm not going to-"

"To the tavern, my good man!"

Merlin yelped as a grip on his arm hauled him to his feet. Staggering slightly as the blood rushed back to his legs it took him a moment to realise Gwaine was leading him towards the corridor exit. "No, really," he tried, "you know what happened the last time; I couldn't look that poor girl in the eye for a month." He twisted his elbow out from under the knight's hand, only to feel a muscled arm drape over his shoulders and pull him forwards.

"The corridors really quiet, perfect to just hide and nap actually, and I've always loved the cold, really…refreshing, gets the heart relaxed."

"Merlin, you are coming to get absolutely sloshed, and you are going to enjoy it. I bet a gold coin that the next time you were in the tavern you'd be dancing on the table by the third drink; last time it took you four so I want you to really try and impress me tonight. I don't know what your heartfelt relationship with this corridor is, but I promise you I will find a - no, _two_ – lovely drunk girls that will make you forget all about the poor lonely corridor and ensure you can't look them in the eye again _ever_. You chickened out last time, but dammit, this time we're going to do it right."

Merlin felt the thrumming warning as they drew closer to the invisible barrier and wondered if Gwaine's horror and/or opening for magical mischief were worth using his magic to prevent him ramming face-first into what he knew would feel as solid as a steel door. Oblivious to the warlock's internal conundrum, Gwaine continued his monologue on the wonders of tavern life.

"…and once Perce appears with that chicken then we can get started on the entertainment of the night. Fenra's supposed to have some real exotic strong stuff tonight," Gwaine felt his friend flinch under his hold and try to push backwards, "nah, that's just for the regulars, don't worry; you don't need it anyhow, a couple tankards of the regular draught can send you under for the rest of the night!" Gwaine proclaimed easily. He was rewarded with a tentative smile and Merlin glancing curiously back down the corridor they had just left.

"Alright," Merlin murmured, losing the sense of the Block as soon as they'd passed through it, the magical signature disappearing from his mind. "Gwaine, you…" he switched his gaze from the corridor back to the knight. Felt the heavy arm still draped across his shoulders. "Of course," he whispered under his breath, "like a rabbit trap, you need a release…" He glanced back up at the knight. "Gwaine, you…" he wondered how the knight would respond to his saying thank-you for rescuing him from an ordinary hallway, identical to almost every other in the castle, "…you want to…tavern. Alright. We can…tavern. Alright."  
If the knight's answering grin was any indication, Merlin's final agreement was the best response he could have given.


	2. Gwen

**A/N: Merlin's realised how to activate the failsafe on the Blocks; but he still needs help to sneak on out.**

* * *

Merlin decided he really needed to start keeping track of where these things were. Deliberately avoiding his usual shortcut to Arthur's chambers, he'd arrived even later than usual; and if the pile of dusty armour dragged to the side of the king's bed was any indication, the morning had not looked like it would be off to a good start. Merlin's deduction skills were flawless as usual. After ducking the wake-up pillow, stealing the covers so Arthur had to _get up_ if he planned to tackle his manservant and steal them back, and dodging the subsequent empty goblet in retaliation, Merlin had finally succeeded in getting the king dressed and to his breakfast. He mused that he _could_ stop leaving the empty goblets within Arthur's sleepy reach, but a small piece of metal was infinitely easier to dodge than a half-awake king with a lack of anything to throw.

Bringing his head up, he scoured the corridor for anyone he could sidle alongside and slip out of the Block with. Seeing nobody hurrying along he let his head lower again, feigning rest as he leant easily against the wall, knees locked to keep him standing. Arthur had moaned about having to attend another meeting with the old, stuffy advisors; but he perked up when Merlin reminded him about the feast that was to be held for the visiting nobles. Merlin was just happy that he hadn't already been detained by the Blocks when he had been fetching Arthur's breakfast. Hopefully the path from kitchen to dining hall would also have remained clear; surely the knights wouldn't have advised the 'kitten-headed' hunter to potentially trap demented sorcerers in the kitchen staff's way. Although, if any of them had taken belief in the man's 'preventative methods' they might have considered it prudent in case of poisonings. Because every sorcerer reverted to poison eventually. Magic _clearly_ wasn't such a powerful force that it could beat the potential applications of poison. Merlin blinked, and chose to chase the thoughts of poison away before it led him down a path he had no care to revisit.

The slapping of worn shoes against the smooth floor made his whole body perk up. He tried to calm the feeling of joy that he wouldn't be stuck anywhere close to as long as last time. As Guinevere rounded the corner he gave up on controlling his expression; she wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the happiness of escaping a demon corridor and the happiness of seeing his friend.

"Merlin," she greeted, "what's Arthur got you busy with now?"

"Just fetching the clean laundry, got distracted trying to remember where the new nobles are going to be staying," he answered, falling into step beside her.

"Third floor, they've got the large room second on the left," Gwen helpfully advised, shifting the basket in her arms, "I'm taking this lot down to the laundry room actually, I can help you carry the rest up if you need."

"Gwen, you're a star," Merlin grinned back at her, relieved at the thought. It also gave him an added excuse for the moment he swept the basket out of her arms.

"Merlin!" she giggled, "I think I can manage to carry a basket."

He let out a breathless laugh of relief that the contact of her hands was enough to let him pass through the Block unscathed. "If you're going to be helping me take Arthur's washing up, it's the least I can do. You have no idea how much dirty laundry I found stowed behind his wardrobe."

Gwen's eyes twinkled as she turned the complaint round on him, "you mean how much _you hid_ behind his wardrobe, you're the only one that cleans his chambers, Merlin."

Adopting his best affronted expression, he gasped in mock offence, "how dare you! I'll have you know I hide laundry behind the chest in the corner; much harder to find, and nobody ever goes near it. No, the wardrobe stash must have been George's," he deduced.

He continued to banter with Gwen until they'd returned the clean garments to Arthur's chambers and had to go their separate ways to continue the day's work. He mentally marked off the corridor they had met in as an oversized rabbit trap.


	3. For want of a map

"Gwaine?"

"Yeah, Merlin?"

"Were you one of the knights that guided that 'I-can-make-invisible-walls' man around?"

Gwaine laughed in memory, "Nah, we drew straws for that one. Percival and Leon got the broken hay; they had to lead Mr Cathead around. Said he wouldn't stop yammering about magic in the brickwork and on the princess' clothes."

Merlin chose to ignore the comment about the clothes; he didn't think it would be very wise to go around explaining he used a handy spell to banish the occasional stain. "You've been listening to Arthur," he accused, "and his bag of kitten's metaphor. You shouldn't encourage him; I went to _sleep_ imagining cats wailing in that poor man's head."

"I know a cure for nightmares," Gwaine started.

"No, please. I'm still hung-over from the last time."

"Merlin, that was a _week_ ago."

"And I still feel sick when I even hear the 'm' word. How much did we drink?"

"Nowhere near enough!" was Gwaine's eager response. Merlin quickly backed away from his friends waving arms.

"Well next time I'm seeing how much _you_ need to drink before you pass out on the nearest available flat surface."

"Merlin," Gwaine told him seriously, "I'm going to tell you a secret."

Merlin hesitantly edged closer at the man's beckon. "The _floor_ is flat," Gwaine whispered as though weaving a great tale. Merlin just chuckled at his friends answer. "And," Gwaine continued, deadly serious, "I never pass out."

"Gwaine, you collapsed as soon as we opened the door."

"I _chose_ to collapse," Gwaine confided, "my self-control is legendary." He drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest.

"Yes," Merlin conceded, grinning, "no alcohol could ever best you."

"Now you're getting it!" Gwaine exclaimed happily.

"I need to find Percival," Merlin told him, "I'll see you at the training later."

"You better. Expect to see me flatten Arthur with my amazing strength," Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder, leaving him to continue his search for a knowledgeable knight.

Merlin loved asking Gwaine for obscure help. Whether he knew the answer or not he'd never ask why Merlin wanted to know. And he'd pointed him in the right direction. Merlin started his search for Percival - or Leon, if he came across him, although he found the other knight much more approachable; perhaps due to their shared friendship with the late Lancelot. He was halfway to the knights training grounds when he felt the unmistakeable thrum of magic flowing over him. He stepped back and felt the solid force blocking him in. Hissing through his teeth in frustration he ventured further down the corridor, assessing how large this particular Block was.

"I would have made a very dead rabbit," he realised sadly.


	4. Complacency

**A/N: One more chapter to go!**

* * *

Two weeks in and Merlin was getting the hang of avoiding the Blocks. He stuck to the busy, main corridors, in the hope that if he encountered one previously unnoticed he would be able to 'hitch a ride' with someone on their passage through. His tricks had become numerous. The easiest by far was bumping into someone walking his intended way at the critical moment. Sometimes he snuck through by offering aid in such a way that allowed physical contact, be that carrying loads, brushing off an imaginary spider, or, on one memorable occasion, rescuing a servant from a loose manic hound before they both made a run for it. If neither of those tricks worked he would wait until a friendly face was walking beside him and deliberately trip, hoping they would reach out to steady him and by doing so allow contact.

He knew a good number of the hidden Blocks by this point, but had no idea how many had actually been placed. All Percival could tell him was that the man was constantly muttering under his breath, swerving in a new direction as the knights struggled to keep up with his erratic pacing. Leon had been able to inform him no further, as the man had wandered most of the castle pathways, regardless of the knights trying to shepherd him into quieter, less-used halls.

On the positive side, he had realised the Blocks could be used as a form of test of whether visitors had any deceitful intentions. If he was suspicious, he simply led them through one of the busier Blocks, careful to brush against a passer-by. Even if they had no magic, any magical artefacts on their person would respond to the barrier, and give them quite the unexpected shock. He had yet to encounter many people who wished to harm Arthur through _conventional_ means. If he didn't know better, he'd think there was a bet going as to who could get closest to the king while hiding magic. If there was, he definitely needed to collect.


	5. Morgana visits

**A/N:** **And with this, the saga of the oversized, invisible rabbit traps is finished. I feel a little bad for Arthur's castle.**

* * *

Merlin had gotten used to the Blocks as a necessary evil that he just needed to work around (and occasionally, through). Morgana, however, had no such experience. The castle woke to the sound of stone crumbling. The bell-ringer didn't even need his psychic gift to warn him of the danger; the explosive blast and scream of frustration had alerted him well enough. Merlin arrived in time to see the knights scurrying to opposite sides of the corridor as Morgana loosed a spark of energy at them.

"Where's the subtlety?" Gwaine called, tauntingly.

"Where's the army?" Arthur cried, reasonably, casting his gaze around as though expecting skeletons to rise from the very floor he stood on.

"I don't _need _an army!" Morgana screeched, stalking forward as the knights sensibly retreated further down the corridor. "Fight me like a man, Arthur! Don't hide behind your—"

She abruptly cut off as she slammed into a wall of air, staggering back clutching her nose. Arthur stared at his swearing half-sister, wondering if she had retained her sanity, or if it had finally been lost alongside her morality.

"Do not taunt me with petty _tricks, Emyrs_!" the cry was accompanied by half of the wall being blown apart to crash in pieces in the courtyard.

"Don't look at me," Merlin muttered under his breath, grudgingly grateful she'd cleared _that_ Block for him; it would cut an extra ten minutes off his journeys to the laundry and back. Although she could have accomplished the same effect with much less damage; eager to emphasis her power he supposed. The dust cleared enough for them to see the murderous expression on her face; or…she could just be furious.

"_Forbearne_," she hissed, "_wyrm_." Flames from the hallway torches bowed to her command, coalescing into the fiery snake her magic guided. Merlin heard Elyan gasp in horror beside him. The snake reared, sparks of heat flickering from its mouth. Giving the knights a moment to let fear of her creation seep in, Morgana pinpointed the closest enemy. "_Attack_," she ordered her beast.

Before the creature could reach Percival, Arthur had dove in front of his knight, sword raised in desperate defiance. Morgana's laughter at the futility of the move died in a disbelieving choke as the fire snake screeched in pain upon meeting Excalibur's blade. Heat rushed Arthur, as he bowed his head against the onslaught; blind to the shimmering shield that reflected the worst of the danger.

Merlin decided now was as good a time as any to try his hand at interference.

"_**Morgana**_," the witch snapped her head to search behind her, frantic eyes shooting back to the assembled knights, guards and unfortunate servants caught up in the rush to reach her.

"_**Who are you?**_" she thundered back in response, wary of the voice in her head.

"_**I think you know that answer. Leave, while I still feel merciful.**_"

"_**Emyrs**_," she hissed, eyes narrowing as she searched for sight of the old man she knew him as. "_**Did you think your weak barriers would hold me; that you could possibly prevent my progress with such a trick?**_"

Merlin was about to respond in the negative when a cunning thought flitted through his mind. He _did_ need rid of those Blocks. "_**You will never move hidden through these corridors again, Morgana. My barriers have proven testament to that. You alert the very castle you seek to hide in when you dismantle them. Any army driven by magic will find themselves trapped like rats in a maze.**_"

Watching the emotions and understanding of his words flit across her face; Merlin felt a moment of guilt for what he was encouraging to happen to Arthur's beloved castle. But really, Arthur only had himself to blame for letting the kitten-brained hunter wander so freely. Merlin was completely justified. And he was saving them all from the current situation, in a round-about way; yes, that was definitely his motivation.

Morgana's desire to rule Camelot won out over her need to kill Arthur _right this second_. And she would _not_ risk any gathered army becoming an incompetent nuisance because of _one warlock's_ need to humiliate her. She'd sensed the woven magic when she blasted the spell to kingdom-come; an enchantment like that needed preparation, timing, the favour of the moon. And she would return before he managed any such rebuilding of his frustrating _traps_.

"_**Then allow me to unbalance the playing field once more**_," she snarled, twisting her cloak around her as she activated her transportation spell. Merlin felt the pull of magic as she sought out 'his' Blocks, and crushed them one by one.

_Huh, never realised that one was there_, Merlin pondered as the echoing vibrations of magic travelled down to him. _Oh, good, she found the first one, I have my shortcut back_; the sound of stone crumbling as Morgana rushed her magic through the hallways searching was beautiful to his ears. _Assuming she left the majority of the stone intact. Who would care; hardly any-one passes there anyway, I can just fix it next time I'm walking by._

Merlin fixed his look of excitement to one of pensive worry as Elyan stared over at him horrified. "I…we're still alive?" he asked, trying to explain his previous expression.

A screech of frustration and triumph sounded out from the corridor above them as another wall met the wrath of the mighty Morgana.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Light from the encroaching dawn tiptoed into the destructive renovations Morgana had graced the castle with the night before. Energy spent, and ego momentarily satisfied, the witch had retreated from the besieged fortress. Merlin drank in the approach of daylight as he stood at the edge of one of the new, open windows. Naming the large, ragged holes in the stonework '_windows_' had done wonders in soothing his feelings of guilt.

The inhabitants of the castle swayed between relief at Morgana's departure, and horror at her redecorating. Although Merlin was sure he'd seen the odd relieved smile, quickly covered, by some of the more forgettable members of the castle staff as they realized the outcome of last night. He chuckled quietly; seemed there were a few more secrets wandering the castle than even he had suspected.

In the throne room, Arthur paced, shouting orders for masons and stoneworkers. Turning away to tend his king, Merlin headed down the corridor with a bounce in his step.  
_She's too cocky for her own good, _he laughed quietly; _she never even suspected I was lying_.

In her hideout deep in the forest, Morgana celebrated with a roasted, freshly-caught hog.  
_He's too cocky for his own good_, she realised gleefully; _he never even suspected my magic could best his._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Deep in the kingdom, an eager, scatter-brained man peddled his wares. Dazing off into the gaze of nothing, he stood quietly for several moments. Passers-by jumped in shock as a loud, squealing laugh suddenly broke from his lips.

"_Clever, clever Emyrs!_" He exclaimed, oblivious to the crowd steering away from him in their travels. "_Oh, you pass. You clutch your secret close, but still you pass. Clever, clever Emyrs!"_

Shaking his head wildly to remove the lingering whispers of failed enchantments he spared one last chortle for the warlock who sabotaged his test. Albion's time would come, of that he was sure. But neither he, nor any other could hasten its arrival. He would just have to wait until Emyrs and the Once and Future King decided they were ready.


End file.
